Page 54 of Penalty Kiss
“And if Chief Alvarez needs dots connected, we’ll hand her the whole damn constellation.”
I meet her gaze. "We also need to get you somewhere safe until we can figure this out."
"Where?" she asks. "Lucien has resources I can't even imagine. Money, connections, people who owe him favors. There's nowhere he can't reach if he really wants to find me."
The vulnerability in her voice breaks something in me. This brilliant, brave woman who's been fighting to build a life for herself. And now she's trapped by the very thing that makes her special.
"Hey," I say, cupping her face in my hands. "Look at me."
She does, and I see the fear she's trying to hide.
"You're not alone in this anymore," I tell her. "Whatever comes, we face it together. You and me."
"Cam—"
"No arguments. You trusted me with your secrets. Now trust me with your safety."
She searches my eyes for a long moment, then nods.
"Okay," she whispers. "Together."
I kiss her—soft, steady, full of everything I can’t put into words. She’s breathing hard when we break apart, cheeks flushed.
The moment stretches, taut with possibility. Then I rise to my feet, extending my hand to help her up.
“Come with me,” I say, making a decision. "I want to try something else."
Curiosity wars with caution in her eyes, but she places her hand in mine, allowing me to lead her down the hall toward her bedroom. And with each step, I feel her resistance crumble.
"Cam, we shouldn't—"
"We absolutely should." I stop at the foot of her bed, glancing up at the ceiling-mounted mirror, then at the full-length ones across her walls. "So, do you like these mirrors, Rookie?"
She bites her lip, cheeks flaming. "I bought the house this way. I like the natural light for getting dressed.”
"Sure." I turn her to face the full-length mirror, standing behind her, my hands on her hips. "You kept these because you're curious. Because you want to see yourself the way someone else sees you."
In the reflection, I watch her pupils dilate.
"The way I see you," I continue, my voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Beautiful. Perfect. Mine."
She shivers, leaning back against my chest. In the mirror, we look perfect together—her soft curves against my harder angles, her fair skin contrasting with my darker coloring.
"Tell me what you see," I murmur, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts through her shirt.
"I see..." She swallows hard, watching my hands move on her body. "I see us."
I lower my mouth to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, and whisper against her skin. "What else?"
"I see you touching me." Her voice is barely above a whisper. "I see how you look at me."
"How do I look at you?"
"Like you want to devour me."
I smile against her neck. "Smart girl. Because I do."
She watches our reflection, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. I meet her gaze in the mirror, letting her see exactly what I'm feeling—desire, yes, but something deeper, something that scares the hell out of me.
